


Drunken Drabbles

by orphan_account



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alcohol causes memory loss, F/M, kind of fluff, pre smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 04:12:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15307239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Sleepy hangover morning





	Drunken Drabbles

**Author's Note:**

> F!apprentice x Julian, its pretty tame. May eventually be extended, since it cuts off jusssst pre-smut (sorry y'all!)
> 
> The bulk of this was actually a barely legible scribble in my journal that I don't remember writing, so the title is really a reference to me o.o

Sunlight drifted through the dusty curtains and my eyelids fluttered. I jolted up, confused, and shoved a curtain aside. The sun was so high! _Shit! What time is it? And I’m not at the shop!_

The whistling sound of Julian’s sleepy exhale drew me back to the present. His sweet face partially obscured by the pillow. I remembered that Asra had dismissed me for the day. Normally I would have contended, but a day to myself had sounded like a nice opportunity to catch up on some reading and relax. Of course the night before, I bump into Julian, so clearly there goes any chance of fulfilling plans. That man doesn’t plan a single thing beyond his morning coffee. I suppose that is part of his charm though. 

I rubbed my forehead and eyes to try to quell the dull pain. I vaguely remember…. no…. well, there were a LOT of empty glasses. We pounded back stein after stein of _gods-only-know_ , whatever Barth had on special for the night (whatever keg was nearly skunked, more accurately). I don’t recall any details, and I certainly don’t recall coming back to Mazelinka’s. The house was still and silent. It was late enough in day that she must have already gone out to the market, leaving us intertwined in the small bed behind the curtain.

Julian let out a little snore and I turned my gaze back to that beautiful angular face. His dark lashes still rest on his cheeks. Its rare to see him looking peaceful. Almost as rare as it is for him to sleep in. Or sleep at all. I couldn’t resist reaching down and twirling an auburn curl that was swept across his face.

“Hey….” he whispered as he blinked his eyes open. He stretched out his long legs, a full 12 inches extended past the end of the bed.

“Hey… sorry for waking you, I was just about to get- _oh, ok_ …” He cut me short by pulling me closer against his body.

“Nuh uh” he murmured into my hair. I was suddenly very, very aware of my body and its nakedness as his nightshirt grazed my bare skin.

“Ummm. Where… are my clothes?” I stuttered out, face growing hot. He let out a deep chuckle.

“You don’t remember? You insisted you didn’t need them to sleep. They are arbitrary cultural constraints, I believe you said. Followed by a nonsense rant about forced modesty;” My flush turned from a cute pale pink, to sheer scarlet embarrassment. He kissed my burning neck and ear. "I quite like your attitude once you’ve gotten a few pints of liquid courage in your system!” He giggled at me as I buried my face in his neck to hide my shame. I pulled away for a moment and took a deep breathe.

“Hey Jules, did we…. _uh_ …..?” I looked down and he caught my drift.

“Darling, **no**!” He squeezed my arm gently. “You were, well, pretty intoxicated compared to myself. I wouldn’t have even considered anything beyond placing a peck to your cheek,” I sighed in relief. There was no denying the ever present sexual tension, but there had never been the opportunity to advance past a bit of hurried kissing. I’d hate to think I’d missed our first proper intimate encounter, or messed it up by being a sloppy fool. Although we were alone at the moment. Comfortable in a bed. I looked up at his big gray eyes and he smirked. He softly traced a finger down my cheek and neck. “What are you thinking about, my dear?” He asked, running his hand down my arm, letting his finger tips graze my bosom. I bit my lip a little; I was done waiting for him.


End file.
